


Dearly Beloved

by lindsey_grissom



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Five Times, Wedding Bells, it’s like the delta quadrant is conspiring against them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 11:07:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16448762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindsey_grissom/pseuds/lindsey_grissom
Summary: Five times the fates (and the Delta Quadrant) conspired to see Janeway and Chakotay play-pretend, and the one inevitable time it was real.





	Dearly Beloved

**One.**

 

“Captain, I’m not sure-”

 

“Silence!”

 

Kathryn smirks, fights it back down before the Council Chief can see her. A quick tug on the chain in her hand has Chakotay placing his palm flat against the ground to keep his balance and she knows she'll pay for her enjoyment of this later. 

 

It makes a nice change, she thinks as the Chief circles around the members of her away team, handing out fresh fruits and local delicacies to the women, the men entirely ignored in their positions on the ground. Countless Starfleet accounts of away missions not dissimilar to this and all of them with the women subservient - old earth itself not a complete exception to that - and they stumble across this one where women are not only revered as miracles of birth, but held in such high esteem above their male counterparts that they treat them as chattel; slaves she supposes. ‘Only good for one thing’ as Kathryn’s great Grandpa would say.

 

She knows that it's wrong, however a part of her - the same part that can't help but give Chakotay’s chain another little tug - is rather enjoying herself.

 

No doubt the humour will be short lived. When she attempts to return to Voyager, her crew intact and smuggling a few of those delicious fruit plants, she suspects the locals will not be too impressed with them. 

 

The prime directive dictates that they not interfere with the customs of the planet but for all that her morals revolt against the situation, she can't help but notice that the men - outside of her crew of course - do not seem to suffer under their subservience. 

 

Why would they, she thinks cynically, recalling poor choices in partners of the past, when they can spend their days doing little while their ‘wife’ works, and their nights in her bed.

 

The chain in her hand clanks, Chakotay shifting on his knees and sending vibrations up through it and Kathryn mentally shakes herself. They need to get away from here.

 

Looking around at her crew, she prepares to bring the gathering to a close; Chakotay despite the misgivings he must have about the situation, has maintained the illusion admirably since she laid claim to him upon meeting the Chief. Tom, however, looks ready to bolt, dragging B'elanna along with him chain and all, whilst Tuvok looks...well, that the Vulcan is beginning to look any emotion at all by Seven’s side, says enough. 

 

She hopes Neelix and his team have gathered all the plants together by now. 

 

“You will stay tonight.” Says the Chief as she hands the empty fruit basket to one of her numerous ‘husbands’. “And you and yours shall join us in celebration of Our Mother’s blessing.” The men around the Ladies of Lurexo begin to unbutton their shirts, smiles quirking their lips and Kathryn fights down a wistful sigh. 

 

“We cannot.” She says, finally spotting Neelix’s signal behind the Ceremonial grounds. “My crew and I must return to our ship.”

 

“You will stay.” The Chief says again, the men and women around her standing to attention, their cat-like ears twitching in alert and claws sliding down at their fingers. 

 

Knowing her crew will be watching, Kathryn drops Chakotay’s chain with a clang, satisfied to hear two more drop around her. 

 

And then they run.

 

* * *

 

**Two.**

 

“Why is it,” Chakotay says, his back to Kathryn as he tries hard not to let his mind wander to the sound of material shifting about behind him, “that it's always me that has to be ‘claimed’?”

 

“Is it?” He can hear the smirk in her voice and forces down a smile at it. He can't help but be glad, these days, of any hint of humour in her voice. Five years in the Delta Quadrant are taking their toll on her, sapping much of the brightness he once saw in her eyes.

 

“Kathryn.” He warns as he hears another shift of material and a little puff of breath from her.

 

“I don't know what to tell you, Chakotay, I merely follow the rules, I don't make them.”

 

The words make him twitch an eyebrow and half turn to her before he can catch himself.

 

“Hey. Eyes front and centre mister.” She chides, that smile still in her voice. Chakotay holds himself still again and stares once more at a small mark on the wall. “Would you have rather I left you to the lovely Bereena’s attentions?”

 

Chakotay shudders, feeling again that slimy touch on his arm, the forceful push at his mind before Kathryn had placed her hand at his waist. “Of course not.”

 

“Hmm.” He hears behind him, and then; “okay, you can turn around now, I think I'm done.”

 

He turns around slowly, despite the overwhelming need to see her in the clothes given to them by the Council.

 

Sheathed in white cloth that falls like silk from the gold clasps at her shoulders, pinched in by gold cord at her tiny waist and flowing to hide her feet as it brushes the floor, she looks like an angel from Old Earth lore. Her hair, redder in the light of this planet’s suns shining down through the holes in the ceiling, glows around the gold band resting against her forehead.

 

It is only her worried “Chakotay?” that reminds him to breathe.

 

“Kathryn.” He says eventually, voice rough even to his own ears.

 

“What? Do you think it's on wrong?” She turns slightly, to see herself in the mirrored wall and Chakotay can see then how the cloth parts at her back, leaving her almost bare from neck to the dip of her spine. He hasn't seen so much of her skin since New Earth and he's only mildly surprised at how strong his reaction to it still is, all these years later.

 

“No. It's perfect.” She turns back to him, eyebrow raised high, eyes flickering quickly across his face. He watches as realisation dawns on her, her cheeks pinking. 

 

“Thank you.” She says eventually, blinking and shuffling at the cord at her waist with nervous hands.

 

Chakotay smiles, tucking away this moment in his mind as another memory to carry him through their journey. Another reminder of why he could promise to wait for her so vehemently. Holding out a hand, he offers it palm up.

 

“My wife.” He says, far more serious than he should.

 

“Shut up.” She says in return, clapping her hand down on his own. But her fingers clench tightly around his and her eyes are empty of humour or annoyance as they remain locked with his own.

 

A gong rings outside of the room, breaking the moment and Kathryn squeezes his hand once. “Come on. We have a dinner to attend, husband.”

 

She heads for the door and with a final smile, Chakotay follows.

 

* * *

 

**Three.**

 

“It's just a bed.”

 

“Rather a large one at that.”

 

“I could always take the floor.”

 

“After that last shuttle crash of yours? I read the Doctor’s report.”

 

“It's nothing Cap-Kathryn. Really, just the occasional twinge.”

 

“Like the one that caught you off-guard on Trevan? You could have been killed if Tom hadn't grabbed you when he did.”

 

“I'm surprised Paris didn't just let me fall off the cliff.”

 

“Oh Chakotay, you can't tell me you two still haven't put all that aside after all this time.”

 

“Time doesn't heal everything.”

 

“Mmhm.”

 

“So, I'll take the floor then.”

 

“Exactly when in our conversation so far, do you think you won that argument?”

 

“Well…”

 

“There's no ‘well’. We're adults, Chakotay. We can handle a night in the same bed. It wouldn't be the first time after all.”

 

“What was that last bit?”

 

“Nothing. So it's settled? Good. Get in, the sooner this night is over, the sooner we can get back to Voyager with those warheads.”

 

“What kind of council only deals with married ambassadors?”

 

“According to Neelix, they believe it leads to less distraction during negotiations, and less betrayal.”

 

“No place for seduction.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“....”

 

“What? I can hear you smirking.”

 

“Nothing, only…”

 

“Spit it out Chakotay.”

 

“Well, it's just, how did you negotiate for the warheads; flirting not being an acceptable tactic this time?”

 

“...”

 

“Kath-- _ ooph. _ ”

 

“You know, I believe you're right after all Chakotay. Your back is recovered enough for the floor. Goodnight.”

 

“Captain! Kathryn...you...can I have a cush-”

 

“Good _ night. _ ”

 

“...night.”

 

* * *

  
  


**Four.**

 

“Perhaps Mr Paris is right.”

 

“Doctor, Paris is never right. Especially not about this.” Chakotay shifts uncomfortably on the bed, his arm still clasped by the hologram.

 

“You have to admit-”

 

“No I do not. Doctor, if you would.” He gives a pointed shake of his arm, eyes locked on the Doctor. 

 

“With the number of times the Captain has had to claim you,” the Doctor continues regardless of Chakotay’s words and his glare, “surely keeping this brand might prove beneficial. Seven does believe that it is a recognised symbol of marriage on most worlds in this sector.”

 

Reluctantly, Chakotay looks down at the mark on his arm, still glowing slightly with blue light, as it has since Kathryn completed the ritual on Lemos. Despite himself he feels the same warmth looking at the light as he does at the same colour in Kathryn’s eyes.

 

But that road of thought leads to nowhere good while they are still here in the Delta Quadrant and keeping a brand placed on him in falsity is not how he would wish to...it is not how he has envisioned bonding himself to Kathryn.

 

With a swallow he tears his eyes from the brand and faces the Doctor again, readying himself to do what he knows he has to.

 

“Remove it.” Chakotay looks to the door, Kathryn leaning there against the frame, arms crossed over her chest. “The Commander has made his choice.”

 

She turns away and disappears back into the corridors of the ship while the Doctor reaches for a dermal regenerator.

 

“This may hurt,” he says.

 

Chakotay keeps his eyes on the door and yes, it does.

 

* * *

  
  


**Five.**

 

Kathryn tried to find another way, really she did, but standing once again at another alter, her hand clasped in Chakotay’s, another set of vows memorised and ready to fall off her lips, she wonders if she tried hard enough. After all, here she is, marrying Chakotay again. Another ritual, another sham.

 

Yes it will save his life, hers too, and the crew’s. But every time they do this, look into each other’s eyes and make promises they have every intention of breaking five minutes from now, she feels something more break between them.

 

They don't have a whole lot left to keep shattering.

 

It's been almost seven years now, working together side-by-side. Seven years in this part of space that seems determined to see them destroyed in every way possible.

 

And all she wants to do is tell the universe to go to hell. To leave her something for herself before she disappears completely. 

 

Captain Kathryn Janeway of the USS Voyager. She hardly knows who she is without that title, without her ship.

 

But without this man…

 

“Please now, hold hands and complete the blessing between you.”

 

...she doubts there is anything that she can be.

 

* * *

  
  


**And Then...**

 

Everyone remembers the story of course.

 

How Janeway brought her crew back, through wormholes and timeslips with the Borg inches from her tail.

 

But they didn’t see how she turned to Chakotay, finally back in the Alpha Quadrant and free, and found him half a deck away in someone else’s arms.

 

They can imagine the countless debriefs and reviews. The disciplinary hearings and appeals. Remember the inevitable promotion from Captain to Admiral where they could keep her close. The Doctor’s long fight to be seen as an autonomous entity, a sentient lifeform.

 

Chakotay and Seven leaving Earth for his home.

 

But later, after years have passed. After Kathryn has beaten the Borg Queen, become the Queen herself and died to stop them all. After a lifetime with Q and Junior, recovering and barely scraping by with her sanity intact.

 

After she finally makes it to that dinner with Chakotay years later than they planned, she stands at another alter, in another white dress and takes his hand in hers.

 

She meets his eyes, finds that same expression in them she clung to through the Delta Quadrant and smiles. This time they mean it.

 

“I do.” 

  
  
  
  



End file.
